Break a Leg No, Really
by tay0720
Summary: Rachel/Quinn. Side Brittany/Santana. Quinn's back on Cheerios. Some squad members don't like that. Cue mega injury and Rachel's subsequent freakout.


If anyone were to ask Quinn Fabray where she thought her life would be when she was 17, never would she have thought to say anything along the lines of coming off child birth, going from the top to the bottom of the social ladder, moving back home after she'd been kicked out of not only her own, but also Finn's and then bouncing around from Puck's to Mercedes' or being a part of Glee Club, let alone friends with the losers that were in it; _especially_ Rachel Berry. Yet it had all happened.

Her friendship with Rachel was, oddly enough, not awkward in the beginning. They got along pretty well when the brunette would stop rambling for five minutes. The talked about anything and everything: religion, music, television, former relationships, parents, school, regrets, hopes and the future.

They gained a lot of insight into one another. Rachel learned why Quinn was so guarded and slightly hostile. Quinn learned about where the small diva's determination and tenacity came from.

Rachel learned that despite her father's best efforts, the blonde wasn't the type of Christian that was filled with hate and ignorance. Quinn learned that despite what everyone said, and her fathers' frequent absences, Rachel wasn't suffering from daddy issues that led her to cling to any guy that would show interest. She was just looking for _the one_; she believes in soulmates and that one person in the entire world that was made exclusively for you. Quinn also learned that even though Rachel really loved Finn, she wasn't sure if she was _in love_ with him.

The day Santana and Brittany brought a letter from Coach Sylvester extending an invitation to Quinn to rejoin the Cheerios, as well as taking back her title of captain (only if she proved herself still capable) when summer practices started, she was ecstatic. She'd pulled Rachel into a tight hug and the other girl wrapped her arms firmly around her back and whispered a few words of congratulations.

That night they shared their first kiss.

Before school ended, Puck decided it was important to "keep the team together" over the summer. Everyone knew that was just his code for "we're going to have a party and get wasted."

Every week there were different plans. Originally the idea was to have everyone hold a get together at their house, but with the inability to predict if or when parents would be out of town despite Rachel's best efforts, they were mostly limited to the Hummel/Hudson home, Puck's and the Berry house.

So there in Rachel's room, after the singer had had a few cups of Puck's special fruit punch and the blonde had a few wine coolers in her, they laid on the bed. They talked about irrelevant things and for a little while it was silent—only the bass from the stereo acting as white noise. Then Quinn felt a hand slip in hers and sighed lightly.

She's not sure how she didn't notice Rachel climb on top of her; not sure how she didn't notice her hands slide to the brunette's hips.

What Quinn Fabray was sure of in that moment: Rachel Barbra Berry was a _really_ good kisser.

When they woke up the next morning and realize what happened, neither mentioned it and they didn't act like anything is wrong. They went about things as normally as they always had, but in their subconscious they knew something else was building.

They knew that they were closer. Whether it was _closer_ closer or just closer in always they didn't know. What was certain was a new bond was made.

They spent just about every day together, interspersing time with Brittany and Santana and the other Glee kids. Rachel went out on a few dates with Finn, but every time the girl's enthusiasm when she recapped diminished more and more.

By the end of June, she broke up with him stating that while she'd enjoyed their time together, she thought they worked better as friends. And in order to maintain a healthy professional relationship as co-captains of the club, it would be best if they didn't let this affect their ability to work together.

Finn was saddened by it, but since he and Puck had mended their friendship he had a way to keep his mind off of things.

The drunken makeouts continued to happen every week, and every week things progressed from innocent to less than innocent. From less than innocent to heated. From heated to lustful. From lustful to _this is so not just two friends having a little drunken fun anymore_.

The only time Rachel or Quinn could admit, to themselves at least, that it was something more was the first time they kissed sober.

It was the beginning of July; Cheerios practice had been in session for two weeks and a major heat wave had hit the area making it more miserable than usual. Quinn was determined to show that she still had what it took to be top dog. She was ready to retake her rightful place, not only on the top of the pyramid, but also as Queen B of McKinley.

She'd already made a promise to herself that it wouldn't be like the last time though. She would and could be HBIC again, but not at the expense of her real friends.

Quinn arrived at Rachel's house as soon as practice let out Tuesday morning. She hated the showers in the locker room, so she just wiped off as much sweat as she could and hopped in her car. Rachel and her dads had extended any and all amenities in their home to the ex-ex-cheerleader on several occasions, so she figured she would take full advantage.

She rang the bell and while she waited, beads of sweat started to form again. The polyester of her uniform clung to her and started to itch slightly. That was one of the few things Quinn hated about the thing.

Rachel finally answered the door after what felt like an eternity—in reality it'd only been three rings of the bell—with her hair in slight disarray and white powder smudged on her cheeks.

"Quinn! I wasn't expecting you this early. You're usually here at 12:30, it's barely past noon. Taking in your appearance I gather you came directly here after practice. I apologize for taking so long. As you can see I've been busy in the kitchen preparing for our afternoon musical movie marathon as well as our girls night sleepover with Brittany, Santana, Mercedes, Tina and Kurt. I'm just a bit frazzled because my first batch of sugar cookies burned so I had to make a new batch. And then daddy called to-"

As the shorter girl continued to ramble without pause, Quinn smirked. It was rarely a short sentence answer with Rachel. On anyone else she'd find it annoying and likely a deal breaker, but it was just a quintessential quality. If she didn't do it, then she wouldn't be Rachel Berry.

"Rachel!" she called out over the brunette.

Brown eyes widened and her mouth stopped moving.

"Does it always have to be a thousand word essay with you?" the blonde chuckled as a head of brown hair shook side to side. "Good. Can I come in now? I'm about to die from heat exhaustion."

"Oh! Of course, come in. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking-"

"Rach…"

"Right, sorry. Come in."

Rachel stepped back and Quinn brushed by, warm skin hitting the diva's cool shoulder sending a shot of heat through both of them.

"Uh, y-you can use my bathroom. The shower in the guest bathroom is broken."

They headed up the stairs to Rachel's room and after a quick tutorial on the where and how of things, Rachel shut the bathroom door behind her and started back to the kitchen. She was almost out of her room when she heard a loud thud and Quinn call out to her.

"Um, Rachel? Are you still there?"

A brown eyebrow rose slightly, "Yes, Quinn. Are you alright?"

There were some grunts and some rustling and then…

"I think I'm stuck."

Rachel walked back toward the bathroom and leaned against the wall.

"You think you're stuck?"

"Yes, that's what I said."

"Quinn, what on earth could you-"

"Berry, don't ask pointless questions. Just get in here and help me!"

The small diva squeaked a little at Quinn's tone of voice and the use of only her last name—a certain tell of the blonde's mood—and burst into the room.

The sight she was greeted with was both hilarious…and kind of a turn on. Quinn Fabray—arms flailing wildly over her head with her uniform top just under her breasts and completely covering her face and her toned, tanned, sweat slicked stomach practically having "Touch me, tease me; kiss me, squeeze me" written all over it—was indeed stuck. And for a moment, so was Rachel.

She shook her head slightly to clear the cloudiness that had settled in her brain and grabbed where she thought the other girl's shoulders would be.

Locating the zipper on the side of the top, she noticed it was still closed.

"You probably wouldn't be in this mess if you had undone the zipper," Rachel murmured.

"Yeah, well usually I don't have to. Now get this thing off me!"

"If you're going to be rude and bossy maybe I'll just leave you like that and post pictures to Facebook first."

"Rachel Berry, if you even think about grabbing your camera I swear I will kill you and have you buried with that panty hocking, cyberperv Jacob Ben Israel."

A slight grimace washed over the singer's features with the mere mention of his name.

"What's the magic word?"

"Now!"

Rachel, somewhat affronted, put her hands on her hips—a sure sign a lecture was about to commence. Poor Quinn had no idea it was coming though.

"Quinn Fabray, I know your father was a difficult man to deal with, but I'm most certain he and your mother taught you proper manners. What on earth would you do if I weren't around to help you out of this ridiculous predicament you've gotten yourself into, hmm? You would be running into doors and walls and then probably take a terrible spill into the bathtub and hurt yourself, thus derailing any progress you have made getting your captaincy back. I'm not one of your new freshmen that you can boss around and treat like scum, Quinn. I am a human being; which is not to say that the incoming freshmen aren't human beings, but still-"

"Oh, my god," the stuck girl growled. "Will you stop talking and _please_ get me out of this stupid top before I suffocate or something?"

It probably wasn't right, but Rachel couldn't help notice how when the cheerleader spoke, the definition of her abdominal area was clear. Barely a month out of having a baby and she'd almost gotten her figure back entirely, leaving the brunette to wonder when she'd wandered through the desert for 40 years without stopping for water.

"Well, that wasn't exactly the way I would have liked it phrased, but it will have to do."

She slid her hands across the sides of Quinn's ribcage and turned her so she had a better view of the track and zipper pull. She slid it up lightly until it was about halfway undone and then started to slide it the rest of the way off.

When the top had finally been removed, the shorter girl just stood there, awkwardly glancing around the room in order to avoid looking at the pair of breasts directly in her line of sight—covered by nothing more than a red sports bra—as she clutched the uniform.

Quinn could feel the tension that had suddenly filled the room. She bit her lip before she cleared her throat and whispered a small "thanks."

Rachel nodded quickly, dropped the uniform top to the floor and headed for the door. Before she could successfully escape though, Quinn grabbed her elbow and spun her back around.

There wasn't a split second from when she was facing the blonde again and when their lips crashed together.

It was short, but sweet; nothing like the kisses they shared while intoxicated.

When they pulled back, hazel eyes danced and a tiny smile played on her lips as Quinn cupped the flour covered cheek and brushed away the powder with her thumb.

"I'm going to shower now."

Rachel nodded slowly and swallowed thickly before croaking out, "Yes, um, that sounds like a good idea. Especially since you are already in the bathroom and mostly unclothed and surely you're feeling extremely dirty from your earlier activities. Uh, I mean, um practice and…yes."

The stunned girl tripped a bit as she exited the bathroom once more. Unbeknownst to the cheerleader, a small smile was breaking out on her friend's lips as well.

"I need to check on my cookies anyway."

When the euphoria wore off about ten minutes later, the shock and worry took its place in both girls.

It hit Quinn so hard she almost slipped in the shower during her deep conditioning treatment. Rachel almost sliced her finger off dicing pineapple for the fruit salad she was preparing for that night.

They'd just kissed. They'd just kissed _sober_. This wasn't something they could pass off as a drunken mistake, but the alcohol fueled ones weren't mistakes in the first place.

Rachel knew she felt something for the other girl, something more than friendship. She also knew she'd be more than willing to see if it led anywhere. The "gay thing" was never an issue for her—two dads, hello—but she was more worried about Quinn's reaction.

Everyone knew the kind of repressed household the Fabray girls grew up in. While Quinn was very progressive with her acceptance of friends who followed the rainbow brick road, it's an entirely different ball game when it's you who comes to that intersection.

Quinn sat on the bathroom floor, head in her hands and wrapped in her towel. Her foot tapped rapidly against the cabinet as she replayed what just happened.

Ok, so she'd just kissed Rachel. So what? It wasn't like they hadn't done that before. If she wanted to be completely honest, kissing was nothing compared to other things they'd tried. Still, they'd barely just gotten into touching under shirts and bras—even drunk Quinn still held some type of restraint, especially after the pregnancy. But this was different and the blonde knew it. She felt it.

In fact, she felt it so deep that it's what caused her to freak out in the first place. No one else made her like this. Not even Puck could illicit the thunderous heartbeat that she was sure would cause her chest plate to shatter.

It wasn't that she was scared of being bi, or possibly entirely gay—ok, well that was kind of a lie. She was scared of that, but only because she still had two years until she could get out of that stupid town. Being the pregnant, former Celibacy Club president had held enough stigma on its own, Quinn wasn't sure if she could handle the addition of another ridiculous label.

She stood and wiped away some of the moisture on the mirror and took a long, hard look at herself. Five seconds later, she mentally slapped herself.

What the hell was she doing? She was Quinn Fabray, damn it. Gay, straight, bi or whatever; she'd figure it out and she'd still regain her status and anyone who tried to screw that up would live to regret it.

All she had to do was get through the rest of the day and then she would talk to Santana about it at practice the next day.

She and Rachel had done that before, the whole not talking about what just happened game. It always worked.

It didn't work. The sleepover was a sufficiently awkward experience that had Rachel throwing Quinn concerned looks every five minutes and Quinn avoiding any and all eye contact with the girl at all costs.

Everyone noticed, but Santana was the only one that said anything. She demanded to know why Rachel was acting like an even bigger freak than normal—for which Brittany admonished her—and what Quinn thought was so damn fascinating about the ceiling and walls.

Rachel got offended and demanded an immediate apology. She got a half hearted one that she accepted because, really, it was Santana and that was probably the best she'd ever get from the girl.

The hazel eyed girl gave the dark haired Cheerio a look that told her to drop it and that she'd be informed of everything later. Santana just rolled her eyes and leaned back into Brittany.

At practice, Quinn spilled her guts. The Latina just looked at her unimpressed.

"That's it? You kissed Berry and that's why you guys were being so weird last night?"

"What do you mean 'That's it?' Did you not understand what I said?"

"No, I understood what you said. But you act like the whole club doesn't already know you and Berry have been hooking up for the past month. Believe me when I say you're not telling me anything shocking."

The blonde was dumbfounded.

"But how did you-"

Santana rolled her eyes, "You guys weren't exactly subtle with your escapes or anything. Rachel usually tripped over air and you with your drunken hyena laugh-" she stopped when Quinn threw her a glare. "Look, to be honest Brit and I were looking for a place to be alone and we walked in on you and Berry once. You were either too blitzed to notice or she must be damn good at what she does."

A bright red blush crept up pale cheeks.

"Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"Freaking out about what?" Brittany chirped as she appeared out of nowhere next to Santana.

"Noth-"

"Quinn finally admitted that she and Berry have been mauling each other during and now outside of the Glee parties."

Quinn, affronted at the verbiage, put her hands on her hips and scoffed, "We do not _maul_ each other."

"I don't know, Q," the blue eyed girl started. "Every time S and I have walked in on you guys, there's been a lot of biting and clawing and then there was the time you growled. That was funny. Puck said you were-"

"Puck saw us?"

Santana barked out a laugh, "Yeah, how else would the rest of the club know? B and I wouldn't say anything because we're awesome friends. You know how he is when he's trashed—a total gossip."

Hazel eyes closed and an exasperated sigh spilled out between full lips.

"Alright, so everyone knows. What do I do?"

"Seriously?" the raven haired girl asked incredulously. "Who are you and what the hell have you done with Quinn Fabray? The Quinn Fabray I know, my _best friend_, would not be such a pansy about this. The Quinn Fabray I know grabs life by the balls and gets what she wants. You obviously like her, God knows why. So what you're going to take the bull by the horns, or you know, the Berry by the argyle and put us all out of our misery and just ask her out. You'll prevent early heart attacks, you won't be distracted at practice and I won't be as irritated. Besides, she's less annoying when you're keeping her occupied."

"Isn't she cute when she's admitting that she actually likes Rachel even though she won't come right out and say it because it's her 'deepest, darkest secret ever?'" Brittany smiled as she grabbed her might-as-well-be-official-but-Santana-refuses-to-say-it girlfriend's chin.

So it was decided. Quinn was going to ask out Rachel.

She did it that Thursday. The date was set for Saturday.

Rachel was excited and incredibly relieved that they were finally taking care of things. Quinn was a wreck. She knew what kind of expectations the diva had for those types of things. It was all about the romance and over the top gestures; the blonde wasn't naturally gifted with either.

Since there was a shortage of vegan friendly restaurants in Lima, Quinn decided to make vegetable stir fry with brown rice, fruit salad and pink frosted cupcakes for a picnic instead.

The cheerleader took Brittany's suggestion of parks and the girls had a quiet meal on Quinn's favorite quilt, just enjoying the other's company.

After dinner they lay on the quilt and talked, watching the sky change colors.

When the night was over, Quinn had Rachel home and on her doorstep at 11:28pm—two minutes before the shorter girl's curfew.

"Thank you for tonight, Quinn. I had a great time. It was very sweet of you to cater to my dietary needs. I know you're more prone to eating dishes with some type of meat or dairy or both, and that in no way affects my view of you—to each their own, right?" The singer let out a small sigh when she caught the smirk on Quinn's face. "I'm rambling again aren't I?"

With a nod from the taller girl, brown eyes looked to the welcome mat for a moment before tilting back up, shining under the porch light.

"This was one of the best dates I've been on," she said quietly.

Quinn let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding and beamed.

"Me too."

The brunette checked her cell phone—11:29. She placed her hands on Quinn's shoulders, stood on her tiptoes and gently kissed the other girl.

She whispered, "Goodnight, Quinn," and headed into the house.

At 11:31, the door opened again.

"Now that that formality is out of the way, get in here before the mosquitoes eat you alive. We have to get ample sleep for the pool party tomorrow!"

They had three more dates after that; one on Monday, one on Wednesday and one on Friday.

Without Rachel's knowledge, Quinn had a sit down with the girl's fathers and asked for their blessing to ask their little gold star to be official. So when the end of Friday's date came around, the cheerleader put it out there.

"Quinn, I'm extremely flattered by your offer and while I would love to give you an answer in the affirmative, you know you have to ask my fathers' first. They may be very hip, liberal and forward thinking, but they are old fashioned in the way they need to approve of my suitors. Although since you are a girl, would it be suitress? No, that can't be it because suitress isn't a word. Well, we'll just say significant other. They need to approve of any potentials before they can become my significant other."

"So what you're saying is, if your dads approved you'd say yes?"

"You caught that…"

Quinn smiled, "I've become adequately trained in the deciphering of your language."

"Now you're just making fun of me," the naturally tanned girl chuckled as she nudged her friend.

"Well I need to push some buttons so I know how my girlfriend will react."

"But you've known me for- Wait. Girlfriend?"

"You caught that, huh?" she smiled again.

"Quinn Fabray," Rachel huffed, set her jaw and put her hands on her hips. "Do you mean to tell me that you went behind my back, talked about you, me and our relationship to my parents and then had the gall to ask for their permission to ask me out?"

"Uh…" Quinn didn't know how to feel in that moment. The way she was saying those things made it sound terrible. "Y-yeah?"

A full minute that felt like an hour passed until the diva's sudden ice coating melted away and she offered that trademark Berry grin. A full second passed after that until the girl launched herself into the blonde's arms.

"You are so wonderful. I didn't think it was possible to like you more than I already did, but there you go, making it happen! Amazing girlfriend is amazing." Rachel pulled back slightly and gave Quinn a peck on the lips. "You also have great timing. We can have our official coming out party tomorrow in conjunction with the weekly Glee party at Noah's house! Oh my gosh; I need to find the perfect outfit. You have to go home and prepare as well. I will call you and we can coordinate colors and patterns. A well dressed couple is a successful couple, both in career aspirations and with each other."

"Why do we-"

"There's no time for talking, Quinn! You have to go home, sleep and await my phone call and/or text messages in the morning. If we don't do this properly then it will reflect poorly not only on you, but also me, and that just cannot happen. I know I sound ridiculous right now, believe me I know. Is it so wrong to want our friends to be given a proper introduction to what could, and if I have anything to say about it will be, McKinley's most influential power couple in history?"

A blonde eyebrow quirked its way up and a slightly puzzled look spread across Quinn's face.

"No, I guess not. I just-"

"So you see my point then? Excellent! We are so in sync; this relationship is already headed towards long lasting, I just know it. Now, really, goodnight Quinn!"

With that, Rachel headed inside the house and slammed the door behind her. Blonde hair swished from side to side as the bewildered girl shook her head, not entirely sure of what had just happened.

She was almost back to her car when she heard the Berry's front door open and close again and the soft sound of hurried steps come up behind her. Before she could fully turn around, she was pinned against the driver's side door with a pair of freshly glossed lips on her own.

"You really are magnificent."

Rachel returned to the house, but not before giving Quinn one final, shy smile.

"Lord help me," the now blushing girl whispered to the sky. "I'm falling fast and hard for a mad woman."

_Mid September_

"Megan, keep your legs tight in the air."

"Alex, you're over rotating on your round offs. Slow down on your approach or you're going to blow out your knee."

"Kayla, stop slacking. I don't care if it's hot. You're a senior; you should be used to this."

Quinn and Santana stood side by side, matching expressions and poses. They were not happy, hadn't been for the past two weeks. The squad was a mess, and for once, it wasn't because of the freshmen.

"What is going on with them?" the blonde asked the Latina.

Santana shook her head, "I have no idea, Q."

A small faction of junior and senior girls refused to cooperate when Quinn gave them instructions and assignments. Working out in the humid and sunny Lima weather—which was weird for the middle of September, but maybe it was global warming or the hole in the ozone or whatever—was enough to deal with without Kayla Rutherford (not related to Matt) and her band of airheaded followers purposely slacking or screwing up routines. It didn't make much sense to her. Kayla had been surly since day one of her captaincy freshman year, but she always followed orders.

The day Quinn returned to Cheerios was met with various reactions.

Freshmen cowered because, despite having been kicked off the squad the previous year, her reputation was still in tact. The sophomores decided to play Switzerland and maintain a low profile. Aside from her, Santana and Brittany there were only a few juniors; all of whom were known for playing both sides during quarrels. Kayla obviously had the support of the other three seniors on the squad.

There were dirty looks, half whispered insults and shoulder checks, all of which continued to progressively worsen as the week went on. Quinn ignored all of it. She had one goal at that time and it was the only thing that mattered.

Santana pushed her; far more than any of the girls or the guys. She was grateful for it, even if her body hated her the first few days.

When Coach Sylvester announced that Quinn had earned her title back there was a smattering of applause accompanied by poorly concealed scoffs from the seniors.

Quinn informed the squad that she and Santana would be co-captains. She'd thought it over carefully and decided that it was better for the cohesiveness of the team. Plus, Kayla was more likely to listen to the Latina, which left the blonde with one less worry.

As the co-captains continued to watch their squad half ass their way through practice, they almost started to wish Coach Sylvester had been able to get out of that meeting with Figgins and a few concerned parents. If she were here there was absolutely no way Kayla and her friends would pull this.

The blonde angled her head towards Santana, but kept her eyes on the other Cheerios.

"Would you be opposed to doing one last run through of Friday's assembly routine before calling it a day?"

She saw Santana bite back a smile in her peripheral before she heard, "You're spending too much time with Berry, Q. Starting to talk like her, which might be handy for college essays or some shit with that never ending vocabulary she has, is not a good thing when I'm the one that has to explain the words to Brit later on."

Quinn sniggered to herself when she remembered the day the other girl had called her girlfriend a 'doable thesaurus.'

"But you know I'm never against getting out early. It'd be nice to beat the football guys out of here for once."

"Make it happen then."

Santana smirked and stepped forward.

"Listen up, you good for nothing wastes of space. We shouldn't be rewarding you like this, considering how most of you have done close to nothing—and believe me, Coach will hear about it, so be prepared for the extra laps and a few unsavory errands she'll have you run. But frankly, Q and I are sick of looking at you sad sacks of crap. So what we're going to do is go through Friday's pep assembly routine one more time and then we can leave. Sound good? We thought so. Now get off your asses and do it."

As the squad got into position, Kayla and her friends threw knowing looks to one another.

When it came time for the final tosses, Quinn had no idea what was about to happen. She hopped up into her group's waiting hands and let muscle memory take over.

The toss itself was perfect; the execution of the midair move was flawless. But when it came time for the catch, there was no waiting cushion; just the newly cut grass and hard soil of the field.

A snap, a pop and a scream were heard first. Cold silence quickly followed.

There on the ground, lay Quinn Fabray. She writhed in agony, unsure of whether to hold her knee or ankle as she tried desperately not to cry.

Brittany was the first one over to her, attempting to keep her still while assessing any outward damage. Santana was next and barely noticed the five football players that abandoned their own practice.

She kneeled down and looked in Quinn's eyes; saw the almost imperceptible shake of her head and then the tears spilled over. Her jaw clenched painfully as she let out a sharp breath.

The Latina stood and dug her nails into her palm to try and maintain some amount of control.

"Puck, get my phone from my bag and call an ambulance. Mike, Matt, tell Coach Tanaka that we have an injured girl and get some ice packs in case the paramedics take forever to get here. Brit, keep her calm and don't let her move that leg. Hummel-"

"I'm on it. God, she's going to have a fit," Kurt mumbled.

The boy took off immediately to get Rachel, as did Mike and Matt. Finn was next to the two blondes offering his jersey as a makeshift pillow.

Puck approached Santana with a decidedly pissed off expression covering his face.

"Ambulance should be here in a few. What the fuck happened?"

"That's what I'm about to find out," she said to him before turning her attention back to the squad.

Kayla and her friends were off to one side looking all too satisfied.

"Seniors stay here, the rest of you go home. NOW!" was barked out and the girls scattered.

The mohawked boy eyed the group of senior girls with disdain. They were the only Cheerios he hadn't made the rounds with; he didn't want an STD—thank God for locker room talk.

"Those twat faces had something to do with this? This is one of the few times I wish I was a chick; I'd totally kick their ass."

Sirens blared close behind and soon enough the EMTs were loading the injured Cheerio onto a body board and into the vehicle. Santana yelled at them to be careful with her otherwise she'd have her father, a partner at a very powerful midsize law firm, sue their collective asses.

Not even thirty seconds after the ambulance left the field, a blur of pink, dark brown and blue appeared.

Rachel—looking particularly normal that day in her pink striped polo, a pair of lightly destroyed, cuffed denim capris that made her ass look fantastic (Quinn's words, not Santana's) and black lo top converse—barely came to a stop before she plowed into the Latina, panic written all over her face.

"Where is she? Where's Quinn? Kurt said-"

"Well if it isn't the loneliest lesbian."

The shorter brunette whirled around at the sound of that voice.

Kayla Rutherford, with her stupid bleach blonde hair and overly done makeup and obviously fake eyelashes and sickening sneer and tanorexic body; Rachel had heard all about the girl from Quinn. If her memory served her well—and it always did—Kayla had been involved in several slushie attacks on her.

A glower slapped the panic clear off her features.

"Loneliest lesbian? Are you implying that I'm gay? Because I find it astounding that you could make such an inference without proof or even knowing me."

"Cut the crap, Manhands," one of the other seniors spat. "That creepy Jacob kid posted a picture of you and Quinn like, _together_ on his blog."

Rachel's stomach dropped. She and Quinn had been very careful about keeping their relationship quiet until they were both ready to let the school know. As far as there being a picture of them in some kind of compromising position, well that couldn't have been possible because they still hadn't gone past the blonde's "Under the shirt, over the bra" rule.

"Since Jacob Ben Israel is a gossipmonger as well as a bias source, the picture you saw was very likely photoshopped. Quinn and I have never been 'together' as you put it."

"Bull," another non-Kayla senior said. "He swiped Puck's phone and took it from there."

The diva turned to her left and slapped Puck on the arm, "Noah!"

"Ow!" he screeched and rubbed the sore spot. "I didn't know anyone was going to go all klepto on my phone. This is not my fault."

"You jackass," Santana muttered as she and Brittany shook their heads. She focused back on Kayla. "So why did you do it?"

"You," Rachel snarled. "What did you do?"

The bottle blonde crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, "What should've been done the minute she came back to the squad. She's not cut out for this team anymore, S. She never was and we all know it."

The Latina was stunned silent, left to openly gape.

"Has the peroxide seeped into the few brain cells you have left or are you just on crack? Quinn is one of the best girls on the squad."

"You have to say that, you're her friend."

Everyone across from Kayla rolled their eyes; Santana didn't say nice things if she didn't mean them, it was common knowledge.

"She doesn't have the heart of a Cheerio, Santana," Stacy—one of the few girls Rachel recognized—added.

"And what would any of you know about that?" It was Brittany's turn to talk now. She draped Finn's jersey back over his shoulder and stepped next to her best friend-would-be-girlfriend-if-she'd-just-stop-being-dumb. "Ever since I joined the squad all I've seen you do is walk through practices and competitions. And the way you treat people? You don't have a heart period. You're like the tin man and scarecrow rolled into one."

"Whatever, Quinn's done for the year and now us _normal_ girls don't have to feel uncomfortable having a raging dyke checking us out in the shower and while we change."

There was a shift in the air; where it once was humid had changed into a figurative arctic wasteland.

The present members of Glee shifted their eyes to Rachel. If they took one thing away from their time in that club, it was to not use derogatory slurs of any kind, ever. But you especially didn't do it in front of the tiny brunette.

Santana saw a look in those brown eyes that she'd only seen once before and the result was not pretty from that confrontation. She only had a second to react when she saw Rachel tense and coil back like a viper ready to strike. There was a narrow miss of getting an elbow to the eye when the head Cheerio grabbed her around the waist.

"You vile, odious, loathsome subspecies of human! How can you be so callous? She never did ANYTHING to you!" Kayla and her posse had the mental capacity to actually look frightened. They could see clearly how hard the singer was struggling against Santana's grip and how much effort Santana herself had to exert to keep her in place. "How can you not care about the well being of one of your teammates? Of your captain? Do you have no concept of decency or compassion? Who the hell do you think you are?"

The raven haired girl rested her head on Rachel's and whispered in her ear, "Rach, you need to calm down. They aren't worth it, believe me."

Rachel just struggled harder.

"Let me go, Santana. She needs to learn that she can't say things like that. She needs to learn-"

Kayla scoffed and put her hands on her hips. "There's nothing you can teach me, Hobbit. You can't teach me anything because I'm better than you. I've always been better than you and I will continue to be better than you for the rest of time. You'd be better off trying to teach Brittany her locker combination. But we all know that's a lost cause."

Santana's face darkened severely. First rule of to, near or around Santana Lopez: you do not directly say or even imply that Brittany is stupid.

"B?" she said eerily calm. "Hold Rachel, please."

"I don't need to be held, Santana! I need to give that evil, uncouth girl a lesson in manners and respect."

The shortest girl was passed between Cheerios, still struggling but obviously having lost a lot of steam. Santana gently squeezed Brittany's arm and smiled before she turned around.

She walked over to Kayla and her Insane Clone Posse, going almost literally nose to nose with her.

"Let's get some things clear. Number one: since you were dumb enough to get Quinn hurt, that means I'm full fledged captain again. You know I'm way more ruthless and Coach Sylvester will not be happy about what happened today. She'll leave it to me to punish the guilty ones. Congratulations, you've sentenced yourselves to hell for the rest of the year.

"Number two: you are not better than Rachel. You've never been better than her. You are the lowest form of life to ever walk the planet. You're not even good enough to lick dog shit off the bottom of our shoes.

"And number three: the only reason you even made it onto this squad is because your dad is a booster parent. Frankly, you suck. You have the coordination of a newborn calf and Bambi on ice combined. Why do you think you're always in the back? So don't, for one second, think you have any pull with the direction of this team or have talent, period."

Kayla's jaw was on the floor as brown eyes shone with mirth. The Latina started back towards her friends, but paused.

"Oh, and one last thing."

The next thing anyone knew, the bleached blonde Cheerio was on the floor cupping her nose that gushed blood.

"Brittany is not stupid; she's eccentric. Sorry I wrecked your nose job! Maybe the doctor can do a better job this time around."

Mike, Matt and Kurt returned as the rest of their Gleemates were on their way towards the parking lot.

"We brought ice packs!" Mike said, holding the blue gel pack up.

"Santana needs one for her hand," Brittany smiled as she took the proffered pack.

Kurt looked over to where Kayla was encircled by her clique and raised an eyebrow at Finn.

"She called Brittany dumb," the taller boy shrugged.

Santana and Brittany took Rachel to the hospital to check on Quinn and, upon Brittany's insistence, to get an x-ray.

They were met with Quinn's mother as soon as the stepped into ER. She informed them that the girl had a broken ankle and that her ACL had been torn clean through and was currently in surgery.

Santana's x-ray results left the girl with a hairline fracture her middle finger, which resulted in a splint being put on.

"Now I can flip people off and not get in trouble."

The next afternoon they all returned to the hospital to visit.

Quinn was ecstatic and not just because Rachel brought her a BLT as a get well present.

She noticed the splint on her best friend's hand, but before she could ask her girlfriend provided the answer.

"Santana made sure Kayla learned not to use derogatory slurs and to not insult Brittany ever again. It was very chivalrous. I can't deny my melancholia over not being able to do something similar though."

The injured blonde pulled her injury buddy into a hug and whispered a thank you.

"Yeah well, no one hurts my best friend like that and gets away with it."

They stayed until visiting hours were over. They talked about Sue's reaction to everything—she almost rebroke Kayla's nose. Brittany mentioned the picture incident—Quinn swore she was going to shove one crutch up Puck's ass and take batting practice to his head with the other one.

After a private talk between Rachel and Quinn, they decided to continue the way they had been. They would keep it on the down low and if it got out, well they'd deal with it then. But for the time being, it was just between them and their closest friends.


End file.
